Zaaneera stared at the abandoned building. She needed to make a decision on buying it by the end of the month. She had made considerable savings that could go towards the purchase, but she did not know if this was what she needed now. What did she need? Did it even matter anymore? Would Relahi have wanted this? Steven, the 50-year-old seller, waited patiently as Zaneera seemed to take time thinking. He stared at the top of Zaneera’s head, comparing Zaneera’s unkempt hair with the dishevelled condition of the house. She looked older for someone in their late twenties. He hoped to make a sale as soon as possible, even if it was being sold at a loss. He only wanted to never visit it again.

It was a 2-storey A-frame house with corners of the walls turned green, which must have once been white. The dark brown roof almost looked black with the sun stark behind it. The most intriguing part for Zaneera was the creepers that passed through the windows as if they wanted to get a glance of the endeavours of the house. The windows, however, were darkened by the dust, barring anyone from taking a glimpse. What secrets were hidden in the place? She would soon find out.

The seller handed her the key and walked away with a brisk pace. Zaneera walked through the lawn, trampling the dried grass. She wiped away the dust with her gloves and bent down to look through the glass door. She could see it was empty and covered by dust. She wondered if it smelled of dead animals and filth. As she unlocked it, the door groaned open, revealing broken webs.

No smell of dead animals. Good.

But the place smelled good, too good actually – fragrant almost – as if there were some fresh flowers, maybe marigolds?

She walked towards the couch placed in front of the fireplace. She rubbed the couch with her two fingers and felt the texture. No dust. It was weirdly clean for a place with such a filthy exterior.

She stared blankly at the lawn visible from the dusty glass door. She thought back to the conversation with the seller a few days back. What was it he mentioned when she enquired about the low price of the place? He shared that there were rumours about a presence in the house. It had been unsellable for a year.

“What kind of presence?” She found herself asking even though she wasn’t sure if she believed in any such things. She desperately wanted to, but didn’t.

Steven had shifted his feet and looked down – “People who lived there said that they sense someone watching or…”

“Or?”

“Touching them inappropriately.”

When Zaneera gave a scrutinising look, he quickly added, “But there is never anyone visible and no one has been harmed.”

Zaaneera had laughed. Inappropriate, intrusive beings? Exciting. Relahi would have loved this place.

He had seemed taken aback, almost hurt that she didn’t believe him. But he recovered soon, must have been at the prospect of finally losing the damned house.

As she sat on the milky white, soft sofa, she thought, “Someone touching me sounds wonderful.”

Her thoughts were interrupted by the noise of something moving behind her. She turned around instinctively, suddenly aware of being all alone in the house. A blow of air on her neck. The hair on her neck straightened up. Her heartbeat paced.

Perhaps, she would have run from this creepy house if it were a year ago. But now it was different. Now, she didn’t care. Her heartbeat paced back to normal.

She got up with the intention to explore and took the staircase. There were three doors – two rooms and a bathroom. She first checked a small room and then the bathroom beside it. The fungus had taken over these spaces and made its presence stronger with the stench, which was only detectable once the doors were opened. She noticed the creepers coming in through the slightly-opened, slightly-broken windows. It’s going to be a huge task cleaning this space! And then she opened the door of the room on the other side. It was the largest room. She was surprised at how clean it looked. The bed was made well with pink sheets and pillows, and faint wrinkles suggesting someone had slept in. Was someone living here? Avoiding rent?

She walked to the bed and sat at the foot of it. The window glasses were large but stained, hindering the view. She lay down with her upper body and legs still touching the floor. On her right were 4 large mirrors on the cupboard doors. She stared at her reflection, slightly distorted in the mirror. She decided that she would either buy this place or kill herself here. She looked at the ceiling and closed her eyes. She fell on the bed with her eyes closed, imagining what death would feel like.

Something grazed her thighs.

She sat up with her eyes now wide open. She swallowed hard, suddenly realising the dryness of her mouth. There was no one around. Maybe she imagined it. The skin on her thighs had a lingering sensation of the touch.